An Eighth Shot of Espresso: Coffee and Creativity on Mum's Third Shift

I see her fire  determined   to make a difference  in the future  the pride fills me  as she tells me  her hopes and dreams  as she holds a pen  in one hand  and a ballot  in the other They cheer for this is her first time at the polls they even snap her picture I stand there proud for her she takes her civic duty  so very seriously

I write  infinite poems but they vanish  into the ether scattered across the winds  never read never seen the words  slip through  my fingers  never recorded  but my mind  remembers  every one  line by line I recite them loudly so I will not forget every rhythm and rhyme for they will fall like silent rain upon deaf ears.

Characters come alive  with the strokes of a pen  on paper or a screen  every movement precise  every emotion deliberate  A personality shines  frame by frame  second by second  as the audience joins  in their varied adventures They laugh and they cry fight against the forces of evil each one has a unique voice so much that their viewers forget they are not real.

lost in the sauce  monks meditate  upon clear water  see to the bottom  every detail sharp their steps illuminated but others forget clouded and blind distracted by the pleasant aroma  in the depths  of red tomato  what really matters

The black cats  with orange eyes  insist they are  supremely lucky  and that they suffer  from centuries of  bad public relations  from humans  who don't understand them The black cats with orange eyes grow protective of their various owners who feed and care for their daily living so they reward them with utmost loyalty and stalwart protection.

Burn a taper in the window the only glow that burns brightly  a slender candle  with a long flame stretches thin and high  a light that shines  in the encroaching  black darkness  the wax drips down  makes it thinner  and smaller  until it disappears